


Necklace Of Hope

by TheyDontBurnLikeUs_27



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, District 5 (Hunger Games), F/M, First Kiss, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Last Kiss, Love Confessions, Mockingjay, Original Character Death(s), POV Original Female Character, Pre-Suicide Mission, Self-Sacrifice, War, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDontBurnLikeUs_27/pseuds/TheyDontBurnLikeUs_27
Summary: A nineteen-year-old girl from district five is going to help blow up the dam that supplies the Capitols power after seeing the latest Mockingjay promo. She knows that she is going to die but she doesn't expect to run into her childhood best friend who she hasn't spoken to in five years. Is there enough time for them to say what they need to say to each other or will they both die without saying goodbye?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	Necklace Of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching Mocking Jay Part 1 and the scene where all the people of District 5 storm the damn really stuck with me so I decided to write a story about two of the people who were there and what the revolution meant to them.

“I should have known you’d be here.” his voice is quieter than I ever could have imagined. “You always were too-” his sentence trails off. We keep walking, boots squelching in the black mud that’s trying to suck us down. “Too what?” I ask looking up at him. He looks the same, older maybe and his hair is longer but it’s still him. 

“Too brave,” he says. I think that we’re the only ones talking or else we’re deaf to everyone else's conversations. “You were too” I reply because really, what am I supposed to say? “Is it weird that this makes sense?” he finally asks and he turns his face towards mine, a few strands of curly blonde hair have fallen loose from the messy bun keeping it out of his eyes. “That what makes sense?” I ask because honestly, there are so many things about us that don’t make sense, at least not to me. 

I don’t know why this is the first time we’ve talked, really talked since we were fourteen years old. I don’t know why we are talking now but I think if there is anyone I’d want to be with again before the end it’s him. 

“That we’re about to sacrifice our lives and it feels like in some part of myself I always knew this is how things would end.” I shake my head because I honestly feel the same. The two of us were always more equipped for suicide missions than fighting through the endless days of darkness. “We were never going to fit were we?” I phrase it like a question but it’s not, not really. 

“You know I’m not even angry anymore, I’m just tired,” he says and he looks it, I think we both do. “I’m afraid” I admit quietly “Me too," he starts "but I think I’m more afraid of living the rest of my life like this,” he says gesturing back to the factories, and I understand, maybe I’m one of the only people who understands. The two of us, we were inevitable. We weren’t the only people who couldn’t fit in but we were the ones who couldn’t pretend to. 

We crest the ridge and suddenly I can see the dam laid out below us. His hand grips mine, I don’t think he’s held my hand since we were nine years old. “What was that song we used to sing?” he asks, fingers locked around mine, we keep walking, all the time we keep walking. “We've got to hold on to what we've got, It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not We've got each other and that's a lot for love We'll give it a shot Woah, we're halfway there Woah, livin' on a prayer Take my hand, we'll make it I swear…” It’s the same words, the same melody only slower and quieter and maybe a bit more fitting than I’d ever realized at the time. 

He smiles “fitting isn’t it?” and a brief laugh falls from my lips, almost incredulous. It’s been five years and nothing has changed, except that he’s holding my hand again, he’s holding my hand. Every step brings us closer to the end. “We’re going to die here, any last words?” he questions a smirk on his face. “I missed you” this is quite possibly the most stupid, desperate, cliche thing I could have said but I’ve needed to say it for a long time. He pauses in his stride “I missed you too and, while we’re doing this I’m sorry” 

I smile at him because even though this hurts I’m really glad it’s happening. “You’re sorry for…” it’s stupid but I need to hear it and it’s almost lighthearted now because does it really matter anymore? We’re both here at the end and I think that that’s all I ever wanted anyway. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, I’m sorry that I pushed you away.” He’s almost frowning now “I’m sorry I tried so hard to hold on, I knew that you needed space and I didn’t give that to you.” he shrugs and for a minute we don’t say anything. 

Too soon we’re standing before the dam and I hear someone say to wait until the peacekeepers change shifts. He ends up sitting down next to me on the ground in the mud, hidden by the trees. We’re filthy which, of course, doesn’t matter. He’s still holding my hand and I pull him down to look at the stars. 

“Do you remember the tire swing?” he finally asks “yeah I remember, and the treehouse” he smiles “that seems so long ago.” he says quietly and something in my chest hurts “we used to have sword fights with wooden sticks” he snorts and the quiet laughter is bittersweet. “You used to read a lot, anything you could find. Do you still like to read?” I nod and we fall into silence. 

What is there left to say? 

I don’t want to die but I’m glad he’s with me. I hear the people around us whispering goodbyes and god, this hurts so much more than I ever would have imagined. “It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not,” I whisper because god, is that ironic. The song we used to sing and dance around to when we were children is about holding on, and here we are about to let go of everything. He sits up “we’re not going to make it,” he says as we get tiredly to our feet. 

Suddenly the five or so minutes we have left seem so short. There are three words I want to say to him but I’m not going to do that to us right now. Not when nothing is going to come of it, it won’t matter how he feels or responds because we are both going to die. 

My heart is beating so fast like it’s trying to make up for the fact that it won’t get to beat for much longer. “Don’t let go.” He says and I shake my head, smiling up at him even as a tear rolls down my cheek. “Never” I reply as he pulls a hair tie off my wrist and pulls my filthy blond hair into a disastrous ponytail that does nothing to keep it out of my eyes “thanks” I murmur “no problem,” he says. His hand lingers on my neck and I want to kiss him. I have never wanted to kiss him more in my life than I do at this moment. But it doesn’t matter because we have no time. We are going to die here. 

As the crowd starts forward he squeezes my hand “Suddenly I have so much to say” I look at him and he looks like he’s going to fall apart. “Then say it, we’ve got two more minutes” He looks at me and his blue eyes are blazing. Before I know what to say he is kissing me, and it’s a mess, desperate, and heartbreaking, and I know, I know this is goodbye. We are going to die here. 

He pulls away from me when people start moving around us “I guess that kind of says it all huh?” I respond breathlessly. His response is anything but what I was expecting “You know I love you right” something in my chest shatters. This isn’t what I wanted, I don’t want to die, but I can’t do anything. He wraps his arms around me and crushes me to his chest and I think we’re both crying. I don’t mean for it to happen but my head falls on his chest and his heart is pounding, pumping blood through his veins, it won’t be doing that for much longer. We are going to die here. 

Finally, it happens, the blood and adrenaline are pumping through my veins and I feel so alive as we surge forward. Gunshots ring across the dam and water roars as we rush forward. So many people lie on the ground, dead and dying. But we keep running, trying not to slip in the water or the blood. He never lets go of my hand. 

We get closer than most people before the bullets catch us. He falls down first and his grip on my hand is so tight he pulls me down with him. My head smashes into the ground and I hear his scream but it bleeds into the screaming all around us. It doesn’t matter right now that I signed up to be here, I am so afraid and so angry. I hate the Capitol for leaving us with these impossible choices, waste away in a factory day after day or die here like this. 

I’m actually glad I’m not going to make it home because I don’t want to have to live with the memory of his face drawn in pain as he gasps for air and blood pours out of his mouth, hot and sticky and almost black. 

He is dying and it’s not like any of the books I’ve read, it’s messier and more painful, and a bullet or two or three rip through my back setting me on fire. Not even the cool rain against our skin can quench this heat. I don’t scream but the sound is locked in my chest, fire burning us and water drowning us. We are dying and I don’t want to go, not like this. 

I kiss him and it’s not romantic or passionate, it’s not even goodbye. It’s just fear and pain and desperation, and blood, there is so much blood. It soaks our clothes and hands and lips and fills his mouth. He’s still sputtering when he pulls away and his hands are still fisted in my hair gripping too tight. 

There are no last words, no whispers of my name, still no goodbyes. He dies crying and in so much pain and he can’t form words. It’s not him, he’s always been fearless. 

And I’m dying too, I can feel it, everything is so hard and so painful. I can’t breathe, every time I try it's like I’m swallowing fire. Pain spreads across my back and it’s so strong. 

I didn’t want this, didn’t consider it really. I just thought it’d be a bullet in the skull. I didn’t think I’d find him here again before the end, just in time to lose him again. I didn't think this through. 

My life doesn’t flash before my eyes, I don’t see the sunlight filtering through the trees, or the afternoons we spent exploring old creek beds, it’s nothing that beautiful. There's just darkness, gunfire, pain, and an explosion in the distance. They did it, I think dimly, this wasn’t all for nothing. 

For the first time in a long time, I could have had a future, I think that maybe we could have been happy, maybe we could have made each other happy, maybe our lives could have meant more than this. 

No one will remember us, no one will care that we died here. His body is cold and dead and it’s the last thing I see as the ground gives out beneath me. 

We could have been something.


End file.
